


Born to Be a King

by H_W_Star



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Georgi is paranoid, JJ is called Jean, Jean gets a little touchy with Yuri, Jean is vengeful, Jean's in trouble, M/M, Otabek is here now too, She's adorable, So are Georgi and Chris, So is Yurio's cat, Victor is pissed, Victor's a king, Yuri is his precious fiance, Yuri's his fiance, Yurio's here now, Yurio's his angsty teen self, also Victor's probably dressed in gold, and boots, chris is chris, don't take Victor's stuff, he was adopted into the royal family, he's bitter and scorned, kingdom au, like a cape and shit, trial-fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_W_Star/pseuds/H_W_Star
Summary: Denied the throne and feeling betrayed, Jean vows revenge on those he once called family. After disappearing for years without a word, in said retaliation he abducts his adoptive brother's fiance and holds him at his mercy. Victor, furious, immediately comes to rescue him and make sure the individual responsible pays for their actions.Could grow into a larger story.





	1. [Technically] Chapter 0

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experimental fic more so than it is an actual story. I may expand upon it in future, but I'm not sure. This is just an idea I had and wanted to try out. It's almost like a preview for a story I may elaborate on, in the same vein as a demo for a game.  
> None of these characters belong to me. Thanks to everyone who stops by for a read, and hope you enjoy.

“What have you done to him?” The horror rang clear in Victor’s voice, an unusually higher tone that made Jean’s lips curl into a crude sneer.

Yuri’s eyes were glazed; his entire body seemed slack in Jean’s covetous hands. The hold he had on Yuri made Victor’s stomach turn. Yuri’s face was flushed, and his hair was slightly disheveled. At a glance he might have seemed drunk, but Victor knew better. His eyes narrowed, and in a dangerously low voice, he commanded, “Let go of him.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Yuri and I have gotten quite well-acquainted. I believe I’m rather taken with him.” The taunt was evident in Jean’s voice, and before Victor could even take a step forward Jean dove down and crushed his lips to Yuri’s. Victor’s eyes went wide before anger surged through his veins like liquid fire. He rushed forward, reaching for his sword and fully intending to run it across Jean’s throat, but he was halted by two broad-shouldered guards. Victor struggled against them but their unyielding grip held him fast, and all he could do was watch as Jean didn’t pull away and instead tipped Yuri’s head back farther. When he eventually did stop, Yuri’s lips were shining and moist. Victor’s blood boiled. He strained once more against his human restraints, blue eyes aflame with fury.

Jean gave a low chuckle that reverberated around the large hall. Staring directly at Victor, he ran a thumb across Yuri’s slick bottom lip slowly, then leaned down and sharply bit Yuri’s neck. The younger male drew in a hiss of breath, but otherwise didn’t respond.

At Victor’s enraged expression Jean smirked and murmured, “He has such soft skin. Hard to keep my hands off him.” At this Jean’s hand slipped under Yuri’s dark shirt, and Yuri’s head fell back with a whimpered moan, eyes screwed shut and face flushing a deeper shade.

“And so sensitive too…” Jean cooed.

It disgusted Victor, seeing Jean’s offending hands all over Yuri as if the younger male was one of his playthings. To see Yuri’s purity being marred in such a way, to see another’s hands all over him…Victor had never known anger like this. He knew Jean was vengeful from being denied the throne, and hated Victor for taking what he perceived as rightfully his. They had grown up together, played together, had even been raised as royalty together. Jean had been infatuated with the idea of kingship but it was never his to have. He was an orphaned peasant boy Victor’s father had taken pity on, after all. Granted someone probably should have told him before he discovered the fact for himself, but it was doubtful that would have changed anything. Scorned and wrathful, Jean had sworn hateful revenge on the entire royal family, even Victor himself. Any brotherly ties between them had clearly died that day. Jean had taken off and retreated to an unknown location, and no word had been heard from him for almost a full decade. However, Victor knew Jean was not one to let any kind of offense go, especially not something he took as a personal affront. Thus Victor had expected some form of retaliation despite Jean’s seemingly nonexistent presence, and an attack or declaration of war Victor could have dealt with. Yet when he had woken up to see his fiancé missing from their bed, he knew without a second’s doubt who was responsible. Jean had definitely far beyond crossed the line, and at that point their past ceased to matter at all. Jean had taken something very important to Victor, and he had to answer for what he had done.

In a sudden, fluid motion Victor kicked the feet out under the guard to his left, so that the large man fell on his back, sufficiently winded. The one to Victor’s right had begun to react, but Victor swung his left leg around to knee the man in the gut. The guard doubled over, and Victor drew his sword to strike the man’s temple with the gilded hilt, knocking him out in a way that he toppled over onto the other one, winding him even more as well as effectively immobilizing him.

During this Jean’s grip had tightened painfully on Yuri’s arm, causing the skin to redden, and he had begun to unsheathe his sword. Victor surged forward and sent Jean’s sword clattering to the stone floor with his own blade.  The sudden shock had caused Jean to release his grip on Yuri, and he began to fall to the ground just as the sword had, but Victor securely caught him and held the younger male close. Though Yuri was still clearly out of it, he was at least safe in Victor’s hold now, and he pressed a relieved and gentle kiss to Yuri’s forehead. Victor then turned eyes dark with anger towards Jean and pointed the tip of his blade to the man’s throat.

In a low, threatening voice Victor said, “I believe it’s time you pay for your transgressions.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some exposition via a sex scene?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first of all it's been a while since I updated, sorry about that. I hope you all don't hate me and still want to read this haha 
> 
> Additional Stuff:  
> Let's call this a first chapter???  
> I kinda copied the whole Grand Prix Afterparty thing a little, idk I liked how it went down lol  
> Spot the characters I described obscurely but didn't actually name!  
> I'm still not sure where this story is going but I assure you it's somewhere  
> The chapters are going to be weird because the first 'chapter' was just that excerpt thing
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me, I hope you like this!  
> None of these characters are mine; hats off to Misturo Kubo and the gang for these wonderful characters.

             The door was thrust open, letting the light from the hallway spill in through the doorway. His lips locked with Yuri’s, Victor blindly fumbled for the light switch which would brighten the room. He was having a bit of trouble, though as the hands raking through his hair were becoming increasingly distracting. Yuri’s teeth gently caught Victor’s bottom lip, tugging on it lightly, and Victor could feel his cheeks becoming flushed. As Yuri’s legs tightened around Victor’s waist, his hand finally found purchase, and the room was bathed in light. Although Yuri had been in the prince’s (and future king, as of tomorrow) chambers before, the opulence of it took his breath away a little each time. Coming from a poorer background, at least in comparison to the royal family, he had been completely awed the first time he had spent the night with Victor in this room (and what a night that had been). However, he had gotten over the initial astounding aspect of the surroundings (so very Victor, after all) since then.

                Only one color seemed to exist in this room, that being the ever-regal gold. It was fitting for a prince, but the room’s designer seemed to have gone a tad overboard (most likely per Victor’s request, though). The floor was polished gilded tile, to the extent that it shone with the glinting light reflecting off it. Victor’s boots echoed slightly as he strode across it to deposit Yuri on the large bed, providing Yuri with the now-familiar view of the ornate ceiling. The patterns were intricate, detailed, and of course, gold. It seemed a piece of art in itself, and Yuri quite liked to gaze up at it, though he much preferred the view of a certain silver-haired prince. The large bed on which Yuri now was sprawled was draped with delicate golden curtains, made with a silken fabric that shimmered as the light touched it. The entire room was the picture of splendor, but Yuri didn’t have much time to focus on the elaborate design as he felt the soft pressure of Victor’s lips against his neck.

                Yuri let out a low moan, his back arching against Victor. The prince let out a soft chuckle; Yuri could feel the vibrations against his skin. After a moment Victor knelt over him, slipping off his boots and cloak. Yuri listened as they dropped to the floor. As Victor began to undo the buttons on his shirt that was part of his stifling ‘regal wear’, Yuri surged up and grasped the prince’s hands, stopping their movement. Yuri captured Victor’s lips in his, and moved to unbutton Victor’s shirt himself. He could feel Victor’s smile against his lips, most likely prompted by Yuri’s initiative. Yuri was forced to break the kiss in order to lift Victor’s shirt up and off of the man, but resumed as soon as the piece of clothing was flung unceremoniously onto the floor. He ran his hands along Victor’s smooth exposed skin, then moved to kiss along Victor’s throat and down to his collarbone. One of Victor’s hands slid into Yuri’s hair, grasping it tightly, while the other encircled Yuri’s waist. As the younger male moved to remedy the very real issue of Victor’s still-zipped pants, the prince pushed him down on the bed once more. The pout on Yuri’s lips after having his access delayed was kissed away by Victor, and the prince—who despite having shed his gilded garb still seemed shining to Yuri—moved his (very skilled) hands down to Yuri’s own pants. Deftly undoing the zipper and slipping dexterous fingers into Yuri’s pants to palm his erection, Victor slipped his tongue between the younger male’s lips. He tugged lightly on Yuri’s bottom lip, prompting a moan.

              Victor pulled back slightly to whisper lowly, “I do believe you have too many clothes on, darling.” While that voice very nearly felled Yuri on the spot (as it somehow always did, to Yuri’s mixed pleasure and disappointment at his inability to resist it), he somehow managed to come to his senses enough to speak instead of moan once more.

             “You know tomorrow’s a big day; you should probably get some rest. Your coronation is important.”

              Victor’s lips had moved to press against the flushed skin of Yuri’s neck, and without even looking up he replied, “My fiancé is important.”

             “Mm, but I’m sure your people are not expecting their prince—and future king—to show up sleep-deprived and disheveled. Especially on account of a late night with their _other_ future king.”

            Victor did not stop his ministrations to Yuri’s neck, but murmured, “I think they’ll understand.” He smiled to himself. It had taken a while for Yuri to accept that he too was now part of the royal family; Victor’s people were now their people, Yuri was going to be king beside him. Yuri had felt almost self-conscious about claiming all that, believing to be overstepping his boundaries. It had taken a fair while for Victor to convince him he was not, at all.  It had touched Victor, though, the adorableness of his fiancé’s worries. He raised his lips to capture Yuri’s in a sweet kiss that left Yuri blushing and breathless. Yuri reached up to tangle his fingers in Victor’s ridiculously soft hair, but Victor caught his hands and brought them to his lips. When he looked up, his eyes were shining mischievously.

           “I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten about the excess of clothing currently on you.” Victor’s hands traveled to Yuri’s shirt, gently unbuttoning it and slipping it off him. It, along with Yuri’s pants mere moments later, joined Victor’s garments on the floor. Yuri could feel Victor’s mouth and tongue against his heated skin, and his hands clutched at the linen bedsheets. Victor’s hands traced across his chest, down his stomach and came to rest just above Yuri’s now near-painful erection. The younger prince let out a moan that was really more of a whine, and Victor chuckled.

          “Patience, love, we do have all night.” Yuri didn’t care if they had all night; he wanted Victor _now_. Actually, the fact that they had time (although they really should get some rest at some point), only gave Victor time to prolong the torture that he was just beginning. Yuri’s head fell back against the pillow as Victor continued to ravage him. His skin felt as hot as it had the first time he had laid eyes on Victor in person.

           It had been a party after the coronation of another monarch in a nearby region, to which the majority of royals had been invited. However, despite the wide range of invitees Yuri had still been surprised to be included in it. The oldest—and since a year ago only—prince of an incredibly small region hardly even worth considering, he had expected to be overlooked as a prospective guest. Those invited to events such as this one were usually distinguished, and of renowned titles and families. Yuri’s realm of rule was really only a tiny island, so small that it barely made it on any registered list of regions. He had tried to distinguish the little region he called home with various accomplishments, and succeeded for a while, but a crushing defeat in battle had sent the knowledge of the nation plummeting once again. Yet he had been invited to such an extravagant party, and having been to nothing like it before, was understandably nervous. He was surrounded by shining nobility; kings, queens, princesses and princes all far more known than he. While he knew most of them, there was no way he was going to be able to speak to them. If he were able to actually get that far, the home from which he hailed was so small they probably wouldn’t even believe he was royalty.

           Shining brighter than anyone else was dressed all in gold, with laughing blue eyes and silver hair: Prince Victor. Yuri had certainly heard of him; he was well known across countless regions and admired by many. His skill, smile and benevolence made him likable by all. Yuri had seen likenesses and artwork of him before, but to see him in person sent a furious blush to his cheeks and his heartbeat pounding nervously. The only company he had come with was his adviser; a man with dark brown hair often worn in a ponytail and thick eyebrows. Yuri had a close friend as well, a cheerful and supportive prince of a region slightly larger than his own and who had quickly become a trusted ally, but who had also not been able to make it. Thus Yuri was left more or less alone, staring at this prince who was really too attractive for his own good. Victor must have sensed eyes on him and thus turned, catching Yuri’s gaze before the younger male quickly turned to his adviser and feigned conversation, cheeks aflame. The evening had gone on like that for a while, before it entailed the sequence of events Yuri hadn’t been aware of until Victor had informed him quite a while later.

           He had maybe taken his adviser’s advice of “Get a little drink in you” too far, or perhaps it was due to nerves, but either way ended up flushed, breathless, and very, very drunk with his arms around the prince. This had followed a night of dancing with said prince, and Drunk Yuri was not only a phenomenal dancer but seducer as well. He had left Victor virtually smitten, and had left the rest of the party-goers with some interesting stories to tell, undoubtedly. It was probably a good thing hardly anyone had known who he was. Regardless, it had been an incredible night, and had led to Yuri’s present relationship with Victor. A relationship which landed him panting and moaning with the royal linens clenched in between his fingers.

          Victor finally had mercy on his poor overstimulated body and started to move, albeit at a torturously slow pace. Another whine from Yuri had him going a bit faster, but nowhere near what Yuri wanted. Only moments later Yuri was practically screaming, his hands digging into Victor’s back. At this point neither of them cared how loud they were being nor who could hear (not that anyone could, as the walls were not thin in the least), as they climaxed only seconds apart. They lay against each other as they both caught their breath, Victor’s arms coming to encircle Yuri’s waist. Yuri extended his neck slightly to press his lips softly to Victor’s before snuggling against his fiancé. Victor brought the covers up over both of them.

         Pressing a gentle kiss to Yuri’s forehead he whispered, “Goodnight, my love,” before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the sleep that had already lured in Yuri.   

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see where this thing goes


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor realizes shit's gone down, as well as the fact that several more people than he realized are being housed in the castle.  
> Also, Yurio's grumpy, Georgi's paranoid, and Chris is...Chris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO FRIENDS  
> I am back, and so sorry for the major delay  
> I finally got most of my shit together and was able to write a continuation for this story. I honestly really do apologize for how spotty updates have been (though I hardly have any to speak of), but I promise I haven't given up on this story. The next update might not be for a little while as well, but it'll be up eventually.  
> Again, the plot of this story is still highly experimental, and I hardly have it all mapped out. I'm just seeing where it goes.  
> If you're still with this story despite my abhorrent updating habits, I am so grateful. Thank you all so much. I hope you enjoy how this story is playing out

_He stood gazing at the immense statue of his father; regal, commanding, and imposing. He had stared at this statue many times throughout his life in the castle, though he was really only let into this room on special occasions. Just a child, he had vowed to become just like his father, to rule with the same nobility and authority he had. He always found this likeness well conveyed those qualities he so admired. They had erected it after his father had died, but the king’s passing only strengthened his determination to become a sovereign exactly like him._

_“Prince Victor!” A melodic, yet slightly worried feminine voice called from down the long hall behind him. One of the maids. It was time._

_Unfortunately, there were no mirrors in this room, much to Victor’s continual dismay. He couldn’t look at himself and see how he looked. It felt somewhat like navigating through darkness after a lifetime of nothing but light. He did not enjoy this aspect of the room. Thus, he had to cope by the means of normal people, and simply trust that he looked good enough. He couldn’t fathom how some people did this every day, living without a single mirror._

_He checked to make sure his crown still rested on his head, the one he had worn all these years up to this day. When the time came in the ceremony, it would be replaced with the King’s Crown. His father’s crown. He gazed up at the figure one more time, his eyes resting on the adornment atop the man’s head. He wondered how the weight would feel upon his own._

_A low, grumbling noise began to sound from the heavy stone doors in front of him, pulling his gaze away from the statue. He straightened his jacket, elegantly decorated with golden designs, and forced himself to take a deep breath. When he went out there he would be all smiles and sparkles, he knew, but right now he could express his apprehension, could show the stone walls just how nervous he was. After one last deep breath the doors began to open, letting the blinding sunlight through the ever-growing crack in between them._

_He stepped out, and could hear the roar of his people. Once he regained his sight he scanned the crowds and began to walk forward, waving and flashing a dazzling smile all the while. His path was indicated by a deep blood-red velvet carpet, upon which he forced himself to walk steadily. However, when he raised his gaze to look ahead, all anxiety disappeared._

_There was Yuri, as bright and shining as the sun itself. His brown eyes crinkled slightly at the corners from his smile, and the ring on his right hand glinted beautifully in the light, reminding Victor of just how lucky he was. Seeing Yuri was almost surreal; he owned a whole castle, a whole region, all of it filled with riches of all kinds, but none of it could ever even hold a candle to the love of the man in front of him. And he looked beautiful. Simply being able to see his future husband, the man who would reign beside him and help him rule as surely as his father, instantly calmed him._

_Yet that peacefulness was short-lived as Victor heard a sloshing sound from his feet. Looking down, he saw he was wading through a river of blood that thickly clung to his boots and possessed a disgusting warmth. He had to get to Yuri. However, when he looked back up again, he couldn’t spot his fiancé anywhere. His head whipped around at a strangled cry of his name, unmistakably Yuri’s. He finally caught sight of him, but Victor felt a chill rake up his spine as he saw Yuri hanging from one of the towers, desperately fumbling for purchase._

_As the river of blood, now a vast sea, continued to rise, Victor raced up the stone steps, slipping a few times due to the slickness of his coated boots. All he could manage was a desperate, “Yuri!” as he sprinted up the steps to his fiancé._

_When he finally reached the entrance to the balcony off of which Yuri was dangling, he threw open the doors just to see Yuri’s hand slipping from the bloodstained railing._

_“No!”_

_Victor surged forward, extending his hand in an attempt to grasp onto Yuri’s, but he was just a heartbeat too late as Yuri fell, his fingertips just brushing Victor’s own._

                “Yuri!”

                Victor shot up from the cushioned bed, surrounded by a sea of blankets. Taking a second to steady his breathing, his reached out a hand to gently run his fingers through soft dark hair in the familiar calming gesture, but connected with empty air. He turned his head to peer at the empty space next to him, perplexed and now slightly worried. He looked around the room, his surroundings lit by the bright sunlight seeping through the windows, but didn’t see his fiancé anywhere.

                He told himself to calm down; Yuri could have gotten up to bathe or get a drink or simply take a walk. He wasn’t obligated to stay in bed until Victor woke (though he was usually still sleeping when Victor woke, and even on the rare occasions he wasn’t he always opted to lay in bed until Victor woke up as well). But today was a busy day; Yuri probably got up to get a head start on getting ready. Victor was just a little disquieted from the dream, that was all. Yuri was fine. He was probably off somewhere getting ready.

                Sure he _knew_ that, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Just to be sure. Thus Victor rose, and fully intended to walk out the chamber doors as he was, before he caught himself in the mirror. He was butt-naked. Thank god for mirrors. (He seriously did not know how people fared without them).

                Grabbing a shimmering golden robe from his very large closet—Yuri had, on multiple occasions, questioned his need for such a vast space, to which Victor replied part of being a royal was looking the part and technically half of it was Yuri’s anyway—he wrapped it around himself, tied the sash, and exited into the hallway.

                The stone floor felt cool against his bare feet as he made his way down the hall. He debated calling out for Yuri, but decided against it as even he could recognize such a thing as rude. As he raced around the castle, he paid no mind to the distressed cries of “Your Majesty please put some clothes on!”; he was too focused on locating Yuri.  

                He turned a corner and decided to head in the direction of the northern part of the castle, by the Ward Quarters. When he arrived (preceded by more hollers of “Your Majesty, please!”), he knew exactly what door he would knock on.

                Knocking on the door (though it was really more like banging), Victor called, “Yurio! YURIO? Have you seen Yuri?” After a few more ‘knocks’, the door flew open to reveal a disheveled, _very_ angry-looking young blond boy who shot a murderous death glare at Victor.

                “Stop _calling me that_! And put some clothes on!”

                Victor smiled cheerily, ignoring the boy’s angry shouts. “Good morning! Glad you’re awake. Do you know where Yuri is?”

                The boy’s glare intensified. Victor stared at him blankly. Realizing it was just going to continue like this if he didn’t actually say something, the blond gave an exaggerated sigh and ground out, “No. I haven’t seen him. Now let me go back to sleep.”

                Victor frowned. “But I need to find him.” Then his face brightened. “You can help me!”

                Knowing where this was going, the boy backed away. “No.”

                “Yes!” Victor chirped, and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him out into the hallway.

                “Let go of me!”

                “I can’t; you’re helping me find Yuri.”

                “He’s probably hiding from your insanity! And I don’t blame him!”

                “Oh, come on, Yurio, please?” Victor gave him puppy eyes.

                “I am in my pajamas!”

                “So?”

                The boy turned and looked back down the hallway. Seeing that he had been dragged more than halfway away from his room, he let out a loud groan.

                “Ugh. _Fine_.”

                “Yay!” Victor cheered and continued to drag Yurio down the hallway, though granted at a less insistent pace.

                The blond boy’s actual name was Yuri, though both Victor and the other Yuri had taken to calling him ‘Yurio’ as a kind of nickname. While the boy frequently made a show about how much it annoyed him, he secretly didn’t mind it all that much. He had been taken in as a ward of the late king (thus now was essentially under Victor’s care), as there were complications with his family that made it too difficult for them to take care of him. He was living at the castle and training to be a knight, his promise for which also convinced the royal family to take him in. Aside from bothering him all the time (in Yurio’s opinion), Victor did take some time to train the boy himself, but Yurio’s main mentors were an old, stern man and an even sterner older woman. Today, however, he had no training due to the coronation of the man currently dragging him down yet another hallway.

They had reached the chambers at the southern end of the castle, the Guest Chambers, when they heard shuffling followed by a door opening to their right and a surprised, “Aah!”

                Victor turned to see a tall man with pointed dark brown hair and blue eyes widened in horror. His arms were raised in a sort of defensive position.

                “Your Highness!” was all the poor man could get out, too scarred by Victor’s outfit (or rather, lack thereof) to say anything else. Victor’s expression shifted from one of initial shock to mild surprise.  

                “Georgi, you’re here _again_?”

                The now-sheepish man standing in front of Victor was the oldest prince of an icy region to the south, who frequently ran away from said region to stay in Victor’s castle in order to hide from his royal responsibilities as crown prince. Unlike Victor’s, his father was alive and well and managed the region quite well, but Georgi still had matters to see to regardless. The man also had terrible anxiety, thus rendering him initially paranoid of essentially everything. However, once Victor got to know him he quite liked the prince’s personality, and they had become friends of sorts. However, this did not mean that Victor was okay with the other prince acting as an essential stowaway. While he did spend a lot of his time constantly admonishing Georgi for this, Victor had fallen into the unfortunate habit of ultimately letting the man stay at the castle. Georgi normally kept to the colors of his region in terms of clothing, and today was no different as he was dressed in a suit of cool blues and whites, decorated with silver accents.

                Having overcome the initial shock of Victor’s appearance, Georgi attempted to get some more words out. “I-I sort of…well,…”   

                “It’s fine, Georgi, it’s fine,” Victor reassured, waving a hand in the air. “Have you seen Yuri?”

                “Yuri? No, I haven’t. Sorry. I’ll keep an eye out for him though.” Now that Georgi was no longer in danger of being sent back to his region (at least not this moment, anyway), he seemed to have calmed down.

                “Thanks,” Victor said distractedly, already looking around the hallway again for a sign of his fiancé.

                “I hope you find him!” Georgi offered. “It is an important day, after all.”

                Victor nodded, and began to walk farther down the hall, Yurio grumbling behind him.

                “Oh, and Your Majesty?” Victor halted slightly—Yurio nearly bumped into him—and turned to look back at the prince. “You might want to invest in some pants.”

                Victor laughed and rolled his eyes, but thanked him anyway before continuing down the corridor. Georgi went the opposite direction, likely in search of some breakfast.

                “Why is he here?” Yurio asked.

                “Oh don’t pretend that you don’t like him,” Victor admonished. “I’ve seen you chat with him at parties.”

                “I was being _friendly._ According to Lilia, that’s something I have to do now.”

                “Sure,” Victor said, knowing full well the boy liked the other prince more than he wanted to admit. That was usually the case.

                Just as Victor was about to turn another corner, a door flew open to his left.

                “It’s your coronation today; I do hope you plan on attending in more than just a bedrobe. Though, can’t say I’d complain.” A low voice with a hint of a feminine tone came from behind him. Victor turned to see a yawning, blond-haired man with bright peridot eyes which he was rubbing sleepily. Yurio had a disgusted look on his face, likely at the man’s comment. Victor blinked for a moment.

                “Why are all these people suddenly in my castle?”

                “Well, it is quite large,” the blond man said, “it’s not like you don’t have the room. And it’s your coronation, how could I miss that?”

                Victor had composed himself, and gave a light laugh. “How are you, Chris?”

                Chris flashed a bright smile. “Just fine, now that I’ve had the pleasure of seeing what the future king of this region chooses for morning-wear.”

                Yurio’s expression had grown impossibly more sickened, but Victor just laughed once more. Chris was a fellow prince from a nearby region. Like Georgi, he paid frequent visits to the castle, though not because he was running away from his duties. Quite the opposite; Chris came to Victor’s region to relieve his boredom, which often involved bothering the older prince. And he got bored very easily. Georgi was highly unsettled by the blond prince, though to be fair Georgi was highly unsettled by almost everything. Yuri usually didn’t mind Chris’ visits, though didn’t spend that much time around him. Yurio was dead-set on the idea that the man was a confirmed sexual predator. While Victor wouldn’t go that far, he did have to admit Chris came on a little too strong on many occasions.  

                “Given that today is so important,” Chris said, “what are you doing out here?”

                “We’re looking for Yuri,” Victor replied. “Have you seen him anywhere?”

                “Hmm.” Chris thought for a moment. “I can’t say I’ve seen your dark-haired cutie around, but I’ll definitely keep an eye out for him.”

                Victor felt Yurio shiver slightly next to him, and had to hold in a chuckle. Instead, he nodded in response to Chris.

                “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

                “My pleasure.” Chris waved at the two as they turned down the corner and continued their search.

                Victor stopped in the middle of the hallway they had turned into, and this time Yurio did crash into him.

                “Hey!”

                Victor offered no reply, apology or otherwise, just stood still, apparently lost in thought.

                “What are you doing?” Yurio asked. “If you keep wasting time instead of finding Yuri, your coronation’s screwed. Though I wouldn’t mind _not_ having to socialize with a bunch of stuck-up royals I don’t know.”

                This prompted a laugh from Victor. “Did you kidnap Yuri just so you wouldn’t have to deal with my coronation?”

                Yurio rolled his eyes. “Not even I would do something so ridiculous. Besides, it’s stu--” But the expression on Victor’s face made the boy stop talking. “Victor?”

                In a low whisper, the prince said, “It’s not ridiculous.”

                “What?”

                He looked up at Yurio, and his light blue eyes were wide.

                “Your plan. It’s not ridiculous.”

                “Um. Victor, you don’t make a whole lot of sense on a normal basis but you’re not making _any_ right now.”

                “We need to go.”

                “What? You can’t just ‘go’, your coronation is today!”

                “Screw my coronation. I know what happened to Yuri.” Victor’s tone had gotten icy and menacing, and though Yurio wanted to ask what was going on, he didn’t dare with Victor’s voice like that. Victor dragged Yurio back to his room, and stopped in front of the chamber doors.

                “Something’s happened to Yuri, and I need to get him back before he gets hurt. So guess who’s coming with me.”

                Yurio’s eyes widened slightly. “Don’t say me, if you say me I’m gonna hit you don’t do it--”

                “Yup. You are.”

                “Victor!”

                “Be ready in ten minutes. Pack for a long trip.”

                “What? Where are we going?”

                As Victor whisked out the door, gold robe flowing a little behind him, he said without turning his head, “To get Yuri back.”

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yurio hurriedly set out to go find Yuri, although Victor has been less than forthcoming about where the man is. Sore, sour-faced, and riding in silence, Yurio starts to think about his life at the castle, including a potentially blackmailing incident with a certain, strangely attractive stable boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I try begging your forgiveness for taking so long again? lol   
> Seriously though, my apologies for kind of dying off again; it's been a damn long time since I last updated. I'd like to officially say college is likely created to keep you from doing the things you actually enjoy doing, haha (not really, but it's just been insanely overwhelming trying to get everything done)
> 
> Once again, if you're still here, thank you for sticking with the story this far; still have no real, solid clue what the main direction of this story is, but little bits of it are starting to materialize. I even threw in a bit of otayuri for you guys. If you're not into that, don't worry, it's not at all explicit (but who knows, it may one day soon be...)  
> Also, Yuri's cat is here too; she's a cutie 
> 
> As always, none of these characters belong to me, all credit goes to Kubo and the gang.   
> Thanks to everyone who has stayed with this story, and I very much hope you enjoy this latest addition

 

Yurio was irritated.

This was nothing new; he seemed, at least to others, to live in a perpetual state of irritation. His whole body was sore, a headache was developing, and he had an itch on his foot which he was trying to overcome with willpower. The most depressing aspect of the entire situation, however, was that they had only been on the road for about an hour. Lilia would be pleased to know that his posture atop the horse, though, was impeccable—despite the fact that he was rapidly reaching his limit on how long he could maintain it. He did not blame the steed for his discomfort, of course, yet he was annoyed regardless. Indeed, were he to communicate his irritation to the man riding next to him, he would get a food-natured eye roll and a joking remark of, “Please, Yurio, at least tell me something _new_ ,” which would make him even more irritated.

Or at least, Victor would say that, if he weren’t so stern-faced and silent right now. Yurio could tell he was clearly upset; not only that, but they boy had known him long enough to recognize the impatience, worry, and genuine fear. They had left the castle in a rush—the sense of urgency surrounding Victor almost like an extra cloak—in the interest of time, but also in the interest of not alerting the household staff, and thus brought no guards with them. When Yurio had witnessed the prince trying to slink around a corner like some thief in a satire, he had scoffingly questioned the man’s behavior

“No one would agree to let me go,” Victor had whispered as he continued his exaggerated sneaking. Yurio had stared at him incredulously.

“Of course no one’s gonna let you go! It’s your coronation day!”

At this loud outburst Victor had muffled the boy with his hand and dragged him out the nearest door, towards the stables. When they had prepared and mounted their horses (which also involved a lot of Victor’s ‘inconspicuous’ tactics) they had set out, Yurio merely following Victor’s lead. The prince still hadn’t mentioned a location to him even when they came outside, yet he seemed to know exactly where they were going.

Even now, Victor seemed to have a fixed sense of direction, but had yet to inform Yurio of what that happened to be. Would it be nice to know where the fuck they were heading and get _some_ information as to what the hell was going on? Sure. That’d be great. But Yurio didn’t dare ask with Victor like this. The silver-haired prince was quite often a ridiculous idiot and did stupid things, but Yurio also knew he was perfectly capable of being serious and coolly dealing a host of different situations. This was one of those serious times. At these times, Yurio knew not to press him.

His considerable familiarity with Victor’s emotions came from years of living under the prince’s roof.

Yurio had been born and spent his early childhood in a slightly small village on the outskirts of the region’s main province. There weren’t many families, and certainly not many children, so he spent most of his time alone wandering around the village or the neighboring fields. It was still rather cold, and sometimes he would play a game in which he would have to make a hut for himself and pretend he had to survive the winter in it. He also liked to have pretend-swordfights with sticks. When there did happen to be another young boy in the village who actually wanted to play with him, he would always ask the boy to pretend-battle with him. Yurio always won. Perhaps that was why less and less children wanted to play with him. Eventually no one really wanted to play swordfight anymore—he didn’t need them, though; they barely lasted more than a minute or two anyway—so Yurio busied himself with practicing on a tree (the same knotted oak that never did yield before him like so many of the other kids).           He didn’t know why he continued to do it; he just liked it and thought it was fun. His parents and grandfather were often busy, so he had a lot of free time to practice.

However, his parents became so busy that they eventually couldn’t even spare the time to take care of him. Even his grandfather was labeled “too inept”—a fact which still to this day infuriated Yurio, who believed his grandfather to be the wisest and most capable, caring man alive. Regardless, one gray afternoon when the sky almost matched the color of the mountains against it, the late king had traveled through Yurio’s village on his journey back from some diplomatic excursion. He had spotted the small blond boy alone, and inquired as to where his mother and father were. The boy replied that they were both working away from the house, and that even his grandfather was busy doing work too. The king had asked if this was a regular occurrence, to which Yurio answered that it was. Yurio had told the king all about his favorite sword fighting game, and even showed him how to play. After this time and conversation with the boy, the king had made an executive decision: to take Yurio in as his ward. Yurio didn’t really know what this meant, but when his parents and grandfather had been informed they seemed upset. He then learned that to be a king’s ward was to live in the castle, with the royal family. The king had explained that Yurio would be well taken care of at the castle, given the attention he hadn’t been getting from his family; the man also added that with the boy’s skill with a fake-sword, he had the promise of becoming a talented knight, and would be provided apprenticeship for such a path at the castle.

Yurio’s family had relented, seeing the sense in the king’s words, and Yurio was escorted to the castle by the king’s company. While he felt slight loss at leaving his home, everything was suddenly so different, and in the most wonderful way. He had his own space—not just a room, but a small collection of areas that were apparently called his ‘chambers.’ He wasn’t familiar with the word, but at the very least it meant he didn’t have to sleep on a cot in the corner anymore. The food was delicious, and actually hot, and he could bathe with clean water every day. And his bed—it felt like sleeping on clouds.

However, he still had to do things. He was taught various subjects by numerous tutors, and was of course being trained in combat. Yet since he was there for not just any kind of fighting, but to become a skilled protector of the kingdom as a knight, he was assigned to a special instructor: a tall, angry-looking old man with hardly any hair named Yakov. Yurio had initially scoffed at the man—as was his attitude—but was swiftly whipped (or rather, mock-impaled) into shape. Though the discipline he received (and still continued to receive, as he trained with Yakov almost every day) from this man was horrendously dwarfed by the discipline he received from his one other unique instructor. She was a lean woman, with an even sterner face than Yakov, named Lilia. She looked a vaguely resembled a witch, and the audacious young blond boy made sure to inform her of this opinion of his, to which she responded by shamelessly smacking him across the cheek. It was at that moment Yurio had realized he may _actually_ be dealing with some terrible devil of a woman. She taught—and was still teaching—him manners and etiquette, as he was “a royal ward of a well-known, powerful king” and had to behave as such. Yurio was first very much opposed to this, but—although with likely questionable tactics—she encouraged him to feel otherwise.

He did actually like both Yakov and Lilia, just often did not feel the same about their teaching methods all the time. He was sometimes trained by one other individual, as well: the great Prince Victor. “The silver-haired royal with the golden smile”; Yurio had heard endless praise and stories about him around the castle, and had even seen him from a distance once or twice. He had begun to live in awe of the prince, almost regarding him as some kind of legend. When he started training the younger boy, Yurio could hardly contain his eagerness to be taught by someone of such skill, someone who possessed so much talent far greater than his own but who also lived only a few halls away from him. However, after the late king had passed (something which actually affected Yurio very deeply), as a ward Yurio was essentially placed under Victor’s care, and the boy was introduced to the _actual_ personality of this man he had so idolized—every ridiculous, stupid aspect of it.  By this time Yurio had turned sixteen, and despite only being in the castle for eight years was already done with prince’s juvenile bullshit.

Despite the sometimes hectic aspects of it, Yurio actually did quite like his life at the castle. Occasionally, when he could spare the time, he rode out to his old village to see his family (really, his grandfather) and spend just a little while there. However, he was strangely always happy to be returning to the castle afterwards. Aside from his horse, Yurio wasn’t allowed to have any pets, and he was very good about obeying that rule.

Except for a certain color-point ragdoll stray, fondly named Potya, that he may or may not have been hiding in his chambers.

Yurio had found her—or rather, she had found him—three years ago, when he was returning from training and simply walked in to find her poised on the wide part of his windowsill. He had no idea how she had gotten there, as he lived on the second story, but she was there nonetheless. And he had a terrible weakness for cats. He had to keep her, and so he did; just out of sight from literally any other living soul in the castle.

Or so he had thought.

Only a few days before Victor’s ‘episode,’ Yurio was on his way to stables for a scheduled ride. Potya, Yurio realized early-on, had an incorrigible habit of following him there (and really only there; if he asked her to stay put when he went off to any other place, she would), and thus was actually tailing him. She was trying to be secretive, though, as she knew she wasn’t supposed to follow him there, and thus stayed a little ways behind Yurio so that he didn’t actually realize she had tagged along. That is, until he was well into saddling up his horse and a boy came around the corner, holding Potya in his arms.

“I think this little one belongs to you?” The voice, lilted with a slight accent, had startled him, and Yurio jumped, dropping the saddle. When his gaze fell upon his forbidden feline in the boy’s arms, his very first thought went along the lines of, _Oh, shiiiit._  

“Um…ah…” Yurio struggled for a believable explanation as he stared wide-eyed at the boy. He was a stable boy; Yurio had seen him around every so often, and had accepted his help with the preparation of his horse a few times. Despite his clearly well-build form, he was holding Potya gently, and delicately running a hand through her fur. Normally anyone handling his cate would have pissed him off, but Yurio was strangely okay with the boy holding her, perhaps because of his obvious care. Yurio raised his eyes to look at the boy’s face. He had no discernible expression at the moment, but he had rather nice brown eyes that, while slightly dark, were somehow clear and honest. His hair was short and black, styled in an undercut that made him look quite handsome. Yurio realized all he had been doing for the past few minutes was staring at this boy’s face without saying anything, and once again he scrambled for an excuse.

“Um, the cat, ah, well, right…uh…she’s…um—”

“I’m pretty sure she belongs to you. She followed you here…”

“Well, you know, wild animals do that, sometimes—”

“…for the past three days.”

Well. Yurio really had no answer to that, although—

“Were you spying on me?” he asked, accusatory tone clear. The boy blinked.

“Does watching the person whom I’m supposed to help approach the stable from a clear, easily visible area count as spying to you?”

“Well—look, you listen here, it’s…” Once again, Yurio didn’t really have an answer to this. It didn’t count, not really, but still if this boy knew about Potya and told someone…

“Tell you what,” the boy said, gently depositing Potya on the ground and straightening once more, “I won’t tell anyone about your cat.”

Yurio stared at him, disbelieving. “You won’t?”

“Provided,” the boy continued, “you help me become a knight.”

“What?” Yurio said, even more shocked than before. “You can’t become a knight—you’re a stable hand! They can’t just bump you up to knight-in-training!”

“Oh?” the boy asked. “Then what about you? You weren’t born here, but you’re training to become a knight.”

“I’m a ward of the king; that’s a position of nobility, even if it’s not a blood-related one.”

“Then you likely have some say.”

“I can’t get them to make you a knight! Plus, I don’t even know who you are!” Yurio was becoming increasingly more confused by the boy’s strange demands.

“Look, while I do enjoy taking care of horses, that’s not what I’ve wanted to be. My dream is to become a knight, and defend this kingdom. I was born to be a soldier; I can tell, just by looking in your eyes, that you were too. So I’m sure you’ll figure something out. That is, as long as you want your friend here to stay a secret.”

Yurio glared at him. Potya purred by his leg, lightly winding her tail along his calf. She seemed perfectly fine with this plan. Yurio didn’t share the sentiment. He hardly even knew this boy, didn’t even know his name, and now he was being faced with the impossible task of somehow making him a knight? But on the flipside, not doing so would mean everyone would find out about Potya and take her away. He couldn’t let that happen.

He fixed the boy with a dagger glare, narrowing his eyes even more, trying to express his very evident discontent with the situation to this stupid, strangely attractive kid as strongly as possible.  

“Fine,” he gritted out. “I’ll do it.”

The boy smiled. “Great. I have to go back to work, but come back tomorrow and we can talk some more.” He turned to leave, but Yurio reached a hand out and caught him by his sleeve.

“Wait,” he said. The boy turned. “I don’t even know your damn name.”

“Otabek,” the boy answered. “My name is Otabek, my lord Yuri."


End file.
